5 comments/ 57940 views/ 4 favorites Sex on the Beach By: IndigoSinclair A few years ago I met this guy, Patrick. Things were hot, hot, hot and getting hotter by the day. He was a bad boy with amazing long brown hair halfway down his back and jaw-dropping muscles. His deep Florida tan didn't hurt either. We'd just met a few weeks before and were still at that sinfully delicious stage where nothing matters but marathon sex. The rest of the universe had melted away into non-existence. One night after a steamy blow-job we started talking about what we'd done before, and what we'd always dreamed of doing. At the top of the list for me was sex on the beach and somewhere halfway down his list was a good, hot fucking with an audience to watch. I can still remember the devious glint in his dusky, brown eyes when he said, "I've got it all worked out, baby. We'll put on a show at the beach." Images popped through my mind of a busy weekend day on Daytona Beach with a couple hundred people watching as he pounded my pussy from behind. Yeah, the idea was great, but...not very realistic. I knew exactly how fast we'd be arrested for pulling a stunt like that. And yet, I couldn't shake the idea. It'd always been my number one fantasy to feel gritty particles of sand pressed against my ass as a sexy guy pumped into me with everything he had. How could we do it, though? At night, maybe, during the middle of the week? It was a big risk, but no, even that was too tame for this wild man. He had something much more daring in mind. It wasn't going to be just sex on the beach, it had to be with an audience too. I was nervous, not even sure I wanted an audience. I'd never considered myself an exhibitionist before, wasn't sure I wouldn't freeze up. Who would be watching us? Strangers or friends? I questioned him, but he evaded all my queries with a sexy shrug of his shoulders. He told me not to worry about the details. He'd take care of everything. All I had to do was show up at his house on Sunday morning. For the next week I fretted about everything that could go wrong. I even entertained the idea of standing him up, but in the end his satisfying cock was a siren's call I couldn't stay away from. This guy was dangerous enough to take me all the way and back again. I needed more of him, and if the only way he'd give it to me was on a crowded beach, well, I'd spread my legs wide and take it with a smile. A little before noon I showed up on his doorstep in a scarlet red thong bikini, my pussy moist with anticipation. My nipples hardened as he sauntered out and leaned sexy and ready against the doorjamb. We hadn't seen each other in three days and I wanted him with a fierceness. I took in his muscular chest that tapered down to his tight, tight abs which led down to his...mmmm. He was already hard for me. I could see his cock straining against the fabric of his shorts. It made me glad I'd spent the last two hours getting ready to see him. I'd waxed my body to within an inch of it's life, including a Brazilian wax. I knew it would be worth the look on his face when he pulled off my tiny thong bikini bottom and saw my naked pussy staring back at him. He looked me up and down, his eyes telling me what they thought of my loose blond hair hanging down like a frame on either side of my high, perky breasts. I didn't work out at the gym five days a week for nothing, and I was glad to see him openly appreciating the lean curves of my body. Suddenly I didn't want to wait any longer. I ran my long, red fingernails against that pleasant bulge in his pants and tried to tease him back into the house for a quickie. He looked pleased, interested, and ready, but his mind was set for other things. He growled out, "I'm not going to fuck you Stephanie, until we're laying on the beach." Just the tone of his voice made me know he was serious. I felt my first tremor of need then as my pussy grew slick. As we drove to the beach I was full of a hundred and one questions, but he refused to answer any of them. I was nervous and jittery in his car as we traveled along the familiar Atlantic Boulevard. Yeah, I wanted this guy like nothing else, but beachside was packed. We couldn't. We really couldn't. I suspected that he was just teasing me, getting me wet and nervous and excited at the idea, but that in the end he'd turn around and go home. "Patrick, are you sure about this?" I asked in a flustered voice as he pulled up to the fee station and onto the beach. There were people everywhere, sunbathers, surfers, little kids, grandparents. No way could we fuck here! It was just a fantasy. He responded with that low, gravelly, sexy voice of his. "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you on the beach today. Get used to the idea." He took his eyes off the sandy road before him and glanced at me before adding. "You do want me to fuck you, right hon?" Oh yeah. I wanted him to fuck me, but not in front of all these people! I had to admit though, the idea was getting me really worked up. He dropped one hand off the steering wheel and onto my thigh. Huskily he said, "You know what I really want Stephanie? I want you to get off." He pressed his hand against the crimson V of fabric that hid my pussy and sought out the hungry nub of my clit. I moaned at his rough touch. I needed it so much, but after only a few minutes he pulled his fingers away. "You do it baby. I want you to rub your clit till you gush all over that sexy little thong you're wearing. I want you to do it with all these people around us." I looked nervously out the car windows. I realized that people had probably seen me leaned back against the seat with my red lips open, moaning as he touched me. "Patrick...I can't." "Do it for me baby." He guided my fingers between my thighs, gently working them against my pussy. I was so hot I needed to cum fast. I let him get me started but as the peaks of pleasure jolted through my hungry pussy I didn't need his guidance anymore. I rubbed harder and faster and then when I knew I was about to explode I slipped my fingers under the stretchy red thong and into my hungry pussy. I squirmed and bucked in my seat as I pushed first one and then a second finger into my tightness. He kept driving slowly, ten miles an hour, just like everyone else on the beach, but he wasn't paying much attention to the sandy road as I fucked myself hard. "Oh.Oh.Oh.Ohhhhhhh!" I cried out as the orgasm split through my body, pulsing deep in my pussy. My whole body was on fire as the throbbing spasms slowed. It was then that I realized what I'd just done. I whipped my head around and looked out the car window only to see three hunky surfers cheering me on. They had definitely seen me masturbate. I blushed deeper red than my scarlet bikini and looked away fast, glad that we were in a moving car. When I glanced up at Patrick he looked mind-blown with desire. He'd fucked me countless times over the past few weeks but I'd never seen a look quite that hungry on his face. I glanced down and saw his cock pressing hard against his shorts, begging to be let out. "Did you like that?" I asked him in a devilish tone. I felt like a naughty vixen and wanted to play. I'd never gotten off in public before. It was hot. "Yeah baby. You did real good." He clasped my hand in his and dragged it over to his raging hard-on. "Are we ready to go home now? I can think of a few new ways I'd like to fuck you today." I whispered in his ear as I teased his hungry cock. That was when he laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound full of mirth and seduction. "I already told you. We're not going home baby. Not till I fuck you on the beach." I stiffened, my hand stopping it's explorations. "I thought you'd drop your game by now Patrick. We obviously can't have sex here. There's people everywhere." "Reach into the glove box baby." His command didn't leave much choice. It thrilled me to hear him sound so demanding, authoritative. He was pushing my limits and he knew it. "Pull out the cloth and tie it over your eyes." He gestured towards a wisp of black silk sitting in the glove box. I smiled. More games. I slipped the silky smooth cloth over my eyes and tied it loosely behind my head. Everything was dark, dark, dark now. The burning, flaming brightness of the sun faded away behind the cool, black silk. "Now settle in baby. We're gonna go on a drive." He patted my thigh reassuringly as he veered the car to the right. Moments later I sensed the change. We weren't on the beach anymore. The slow, sandy road had given way to pavement and fast speeds. I didn't know how fast he drove, but it felt way too quick for these in-town roads. I settled into the seat of the car, enjoying this erotic detour. I had no idea where he was taking me, all I knew was he seemed to be in a real hurry to get there. My nipples ached against my teeny swimsuit top, begging to be let free and I felt my pussy warming up again with each quick turn and acceleration he made. After an eternity of that cool, silky darkness the car slowed and stopped. "Are you ready to fuck me Stephanie?" His deep, whispered voice sounded like it was only inches away from me. "Yes..." I sighed out. I was more than ready. I felt his greedy hands explore my body before they settled against my full breasts. Naughty fingers tweaked and pinched my nipples through the thin red bikini top. He pulled my aching nipples hard forcing desperate little gasps out of me. It was too sexy, especially since I was still blindfolded. I didn't know where we were, where he'd driven to, or if there was anyone outside the car watching. I couldn't stop myself from arching my back, pushing my round breasts against his hands. I wanted him to pinch them harder, rougher. I was hungry for him in ways that weren't legal. I spread my thighs wide and pleaded with him. "Patrick, fuck me! However you want, just do it now." "Anyway I want?" He sounded devilish and I sensed a trap, but couldn't resist. "Yes. Anyway you want. Just fuck me." I pressed my hips hungrily into air. I needed his touch, his fingers, his lips, his cock. It didn't matter which just so long as I felt something of him between my thighs. "Mmmmm. Very well then." He pulled the black silk away from my eyes. It was so bright, I couldn't see anything, blinded for a moment by the blistering summer sun. Patrick was still working my breasts, teasing and pinching my nipples. Slowly my vision adjusted and I saw the sand dunes, the parking lot, the boardwalk, and the couple. Oh my god! The couple. I sat up stiff and straight pushing Patrick's hands off of me. For the second time that day I blushed brighter than my swim suit. Patrick laughed deep and husky. "I wouldn't worry about them baby. They were just enjoying the show. Come on. Let's go to the beach." With a casual confidence he stepped out of the car and gathered our towels and cooler. I on the other hand fumbled with the door handle, and slowly, on shaking legs stepped out of the car. With a shyness I hadn't felt since the first day of middle school I glanced over to the couple. They were a smiling and relaxed man and woman in their late forties, obviously not uncomfortable with what they'd just seen. "Come on babe." Patrick didn't wait for me as he casually strode towards the boardwalk, seeming oblivious to the massive erection jutting out in his shorts. "Where are we anyways?" I asked as we flip-flopped down the boardwalk and onto the most beautiful sandy beach I'd ever seen. He grinned back at me. "It's a closely guarded secret babe. Canaveral National Seashore." I cried out in delight as I took in the almost deserted seashore. It was incredible. A one hundred foot deep swath of white sandy beach framed on one side by rolling dunes and on the other by the turbulent waves of the Atlantic ocean. Beaches just didn't look this beautiful anymore, and where were all the people? I saw a handful of beach-goers further down, their colorful towels breaking up the monotony of white sand. Patrick urged me forward and we started strolling down the beach. Oh my god! I clutched his hand tightly as we approached the first sunbathers. There were three women and they were completely, absolutely, totally naked! They were also beautiful, each in their own way. One was young and gorgeous, with a body similar to mine, high perky tits and a flat stomach. The one next to her was pretty too, but I could tell she carried a few extra pounds. Her breasts were bigger and her thighs had more size to them. The last woman was teeny tiny on top with small breasts and hard nipples, but wider through the hips. I gasped quietly as I made eye contact with her. I'd been staring! Lazily she gave me a wide, brazen smile as though she was inviting me to take a closer look. Almost against all my instincts, I did. Her hips were wide, but somehow that made them seem even more tempting as they framed the dark, bushy curls of her mound. I could feel myself getting wet as I looked at her. What were they doing naked on the beach? Weren't there cops or something? As we passed by I heard them all erupt into little giggles, like we'd just made their day. "Patrick, what's going on?" I asked as I spotted the next group of sun worshippers, also sans clothes. There were two hot guys closer to my age sporting two very delicious hard cocks and one naked lady between them. "It's a nude beach babe. You've never been out here before?" My jaw dropped open. I mean, yeah, obviously it was a nude beach, but it wasn't legal! Maybe in Rio, but not Florida. "No. I haven't. I've never heard of it before. Why don't the cops come and arrest them?" He stopped, obviously having chosen a site. It was a little too close to the last trio and a duo of other nude bathers for my taste. "It's not legal. But, people do it anyways. Last beach access on the point. Seven miles out." He shrugged his shoulders. "The cops just don't have time to set up a patrol all the way out here. He patted the empty spot next to him on the towel. "Sit down and take off your bathing suit, babe. I'll put some sunscreen on you." Oh my god! That was when I'd looked deep into his dusky, brown eyes and realized he had every intention of seeing both of our fantasies come true. I was scared, nervous, shy, but more than all those things I was ravenously turned on. I got over myself and dropped my teeny tiny bikini top down, exposing my peachy breasts and hard ruby-tipped nipples. The look of satisfaction on his face was well worth it. Before I could change my mind I pulled off my thong bottom and then suddenly, miraculously I was stark naked on the beach. I grinned and pulled off his shorts, revealing that throbbing cock that had been waiting impatiently for the last few hours. I still didn't think we could have sex right there. After all, there were people within thirty feet of us, three on one side, two on another, and a fairly steady traffic of walkers passing right in front of us. But...I was willing to play the fantasy out as far as we could get away with. He grunted with satisfaction at the sight of me and popped open a beer for him and a wine cooler for me. With no words he gestured for me to lay down on my back. I wanted a sip of that wine cooler so bad. It was blasted hot, but instead of handing it to me he pressed the ice cold glass of the bottle against my breast. I gasped at the chilly feel of it, but managed to suppress any further sounds as he slid the cool glass up against my hard nipples, first one and then the other. Then he dropped it down between my thighs and nestled the freezing bottle against my boiling hot pussy. That's when I moaned. I couldn't help it, couldn't hold it in any longer. Nervously I peeked over my right shoulder where the trio were. The guy closest to us had his head cocked in our direction, not hiding his interest. With a needy shudder as Patrick slid the cold bottle up and down my wet slit I peeked in the other direction. There was a man and a woman over there, both of them watching with obvious anticipation. It looked like Patrick was going to get his fantasy come true after all. My body turned traitor on my inhibitions and I pressed my hips against the cold glass, rocking my pussy against it. I needed to feel someone inside me right then! No more waiting. "Patrick, take me, fuck me now." I begged him. "You want it babe?" He grinned and dropped the wine cooler into the sand. He'd been waiting all day and I knew he needed it as much as I did. A half second later he had me flipped over doggie-style with my ass in the air and his huge, hungry cock pressing for entrance. Another half second later and he was buried to the hilt in my tight cunt. I cried out my desperate need as he worked his cock in a delicious rhythm in and out of me. He pressed my shoulders down so my nipples grazed against the sand. The grains of sand were rough and unyielding as my breasts thrust deep against it with every push of his cock. This was what I'd been needing. This was my fantasy. I wondered then, when he slowed, and his thrusts took on a playful tease, too slow for me to cum, too slow for the frenzied need streaking through my pussy. I pushed my hips hard against him, begging him to fuck me harder, moaning out his name. Finally, finally, finally he took mercy on me and pounded me with his throbbing shaft the way I needed it. I was close, so close. I cried out louder and then he unleashed, a frantic heaving cock thrusting harder and faster and quicker and deeper. I exploded and the sunny day turned into an endless night of stars as my pussy spasmed and clenched against his cock. I felt him speeding up and knew he was about to blow too. He worked my pussy hard until I felt the gush of his cum deep inside of me. A breathless minute later I raised my head in confusion to the cheering and clapping I heard all around us. Dazedly I looked around and saw a small crowd gathered, men with dark glints in their eyes and hard cocks jutting out from their naked hips and women with erect nipples and naughty smiles. I realized we'd put on quite the show, Patrick conquering me with his hungry cock while I begged him for more... A day I've never forgotten and I'm sure our audience hasn't either. *** This is a sample of an early submission I sent in to Penthouse Variations that was turned down. No use having it get dusty on my hard drive. Instead I'd rather share it with all of you erotic literature fans. It's a short without much depth, a quicky sex scene that was great fun to write. If you liked it...or...hated it, please vote!I get all wet and delerious over votes! Love, Indigo...aspiring erotic romance author P.S. The nude beach really does exist in Florida, and yes... I have had sex on it. Sex on the Beach My fantasy takes place on a private white sandy beach just before sunset. I would love to be lying on a beach towel, looking up at the sky, while cuddling with my honey. The soft sound of the ocean waves, a cool breeze flowing over our bodies, and the magnificent smell of the fresh ocean air! It starts to get a little cloudy and chilly so we snuggle even closer, feeling our warm bodies pressed together like two perfect pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. She has her head on my shoulder while she has her face nuzzled into my neck. The feeling of her warm breath is making me tingle all over. I don't want to let her know that I am getting aroused, so I just lay there trying to fight the feeling of wanting to squirm and moan in pleasure. Although I try my hardest not to make a sound, she realizes what is going on and the hot breaths become slow, soft kisses followed up by nibbling and licks. Now, I am squirming and trying to get away, but she grabs my head and keeps me there. Now I am powerless and can't do anything except lay there and enjoy it! After she tortures my neck, she lies on top of me and starts giving me sweet soft kisses. I can feel the moisture of her lips before they press against mine. As we are lying there, we have failed to realize that the tide is coming in, so we both get a little tingly shock as the cool tide slowly brushes over our bodies. This makes us get into the moment even more so now the kisses are becoming much more passionate. She can't help but to get a little giggle because she can feel my manhood stiffening up beneath her legs. She moves over to the side so she can stroke me while we kiss! We slowly kiss and take little breaks to glance into each other's eyes! It is so erotic that I can't stand it anymore. I want her so bad that I am throbbing, but she tells me I have to be patient. She gets back on top of me and sits up on my waist. I undue her top and expose her beautiful, creamy white breasts. I slowly began to massage her breasts while slowly pulling and tugging on her nipples. She can't take it anymore, so she leans over so I can devour her nipples with my hot, wet tongue. She begins to squirm and moan, so I know that it will not be too much longer before our bodies become one. She lays back down on me and slowly begins to kiss down my neck and makes her way to my chest. She makes sure that she pays both of my nipples some serious attention before making her way down the rest of my body. Just as she gets to my waist, she tells me to lift up so that she can pull down my shorts. I slide my shorts down, and she begins to slowly lick and suck on my manhood. She is driving me crazy and making my toes curl. I want it so bad that I feel like I am going to bust. I ask her to lie down so I can play with her for a while. She slides back up my body and whispers on my ear "This is all about you baby!" BOING!! Now I am standing at full attention!!!! She slides her bottoms off, and slowly lowers herself onto my hard, throbbing manhood. Finally, we are united as one. The feeling of me being inside of her is incredible!!! Just as she starts to ride me, it begins to rain. WOW. Now the rain is pouring on us! I am looking up at her and she is looking down at me. I am totally enjoying looking at the rain trickle down her body. Her hair is wet and clinging to her breasts. She looks down at me and loves seeing the water pouring on my chest. She begins to moan as she rides me harder and faster. We are both moaning in absolute pleasure. The rain, the beach, the togetherness is too much for us to handle any loner, so we both explode at the same time with mind-blowing, earth shattering orgasms. After we explode together, she comes and lies back beside me. Now we are back in the same position that we started in! We lay there without saying a word, just enjoying the feelings of each other's bodies being close together. Before we know it, we have fallen asleep in each other's arms and do not awake until sunrise. Sex on the Beach "I'm going to the beach, anyone want to join me?" Liara said, coming out of the bathroom. The men in the room glanced up at her. She looked gorgeous in her bikini and sarong, and they glanced away again, trying not to stare. She noticed their looks though, and was secretly pleased. She glanced at Methias. He was studiously looking away, however, and she could not catch his eye. Andarian spoke up. "You go ahead, we're going to hit the town a bit. We'll see you later in the evening." "All right, then. Don't wait up for me, I may stay out late," Liara said, and out she went. She wore a pale peach-colored bikini, which showed off plenty of her brown skin and long legs, and the sarong around her waist was a cream color. She felt self-conscious walking around in just the bikini. Down to the beach she went, carrying a towel with her. It was gone on evening now, and most of the villagers had departed, leaving their boats and such, to return to their homes. The island was small, and mostly occupied with natives. She and her adventuring party had been passing through, and had decided to stay an extra day and a night. It wasn't quite a resort town, but it was all the better for that -- it was a little away from the beaten path. Not fully safe, but she wore a knife strapped to her thigh and knew she could always run for town if something should happen. The beach was gorgeous at this time of the evening, the waves looking like gold. She paused at one point, looking out to sea, and decided this would be the perfect place to sit and watch the sun go down. She lay out her towel, and seated herself under a palm tree to relax. Back at the inn room, Methias made a show of going through his things, and then looked up. "I need a new whetstone. I am going to go to the market. Anyone need anything?" Brianna was the only one who smiled slightly but they all shook their heads. "No thanks," said Ulric. "Very well, I will be back," said Methias, in his slightly accented voice. He was a foreigner to this land, hailing from Greece originally, and hadn't quite lost the accent. He probably never would fully. He also went out onto the beach, following Liara. Her footprints in the sand were easy enough to follow. He had marveled at her graceful feet several times so knew well what they looked like. Soon, though, the trail ended in the water. He looked both directions. At one end of the beach was the village, and he didn't think she had gone that way. Down the other end was isolation, and then after a mile or so, the beach ended. He reasoned she had probably gone there. He walked that way, and after not very long at all, he spied her, resting near the water. He continued walking towards her. She was lying on her back so probably couldn't see him, and some distance away he stopped to admire her. Her eyes were closed, and she was stretched out and looking lovely. Her curly black hair was spread out over the towel, and one of her hands was idly playing with a strand, wrapping it around and around her fingers. Her breasts moved softly with her breathing, and they were enchanting, covered by just the thin strips of fabric of her bikini top. Her belly was flat and her skin was the color of coffee with lots of cream in it. She still had the sarong tied around her, though it had fallen open on the side facing him, revealing silky skin all the way up to the waist, where he could just see her hip and the curve of her buttock and maybe if he strained his eyes the bowtie where the bikini bottom was tied. He continued up to her, deliberately making noise as he went. Still, her hand went to her knife before she opened those dark eyes and looked at him warily. Seeing it was him, she relaxed and sat up and smiled. "Methias. You've decided to join me, I see." "Yes, if that's all right with you." "Please. Sit down." She shifted over to make room on the towel, and he seated himself, a foot or so away from her. She couldn't help but glance at him from under her lashes. He noticed, but pretended not to in order to let her look. He was shirtless, wearing just shorts and sandals. Her eyes involuntarily traced the line of black hair down his chest, which disappeared into his shorts, before she jerked her eyes away to look at his face. He had already looked away, though, and she was able to admire his dark hair and handsome face before she looked off to sea. She was very aware of him sitting very close to her, and of the ever so light sheen of perspiration on his skin. She wasn't sure, but thought the wind carried with it his male scent, straight to her nose. She shifted her legs uncomfortably. Suddenly the bikini bottoms felt too tight against her skin. "So, how come you didn't go with them?" she asked, more to make conversation and fill in the gap than anything else. Methias shrugged. "Just didn't feel like it, I guess. I thought I'd come see what you were doing. You don't mind, do you?" She shook her head. "No, you are more than welcome. The tension between them was almost palpable as they fell into silence again. Neither knew how to break it. The warm wind blew a little harder, and brought with it some leaves that blew gently around them. One of them, still trailing a vine, wrapped around her leg. She started to reach for it, but suddenly he was there. "Let me do that." His hand caught the vine, and slid it down her leg. It almost certainly wasn't accidental, but as he did, his hand turned so it was palm side down, and he ran that down her leg, too. Liara's sharp intake of breath stopped him and he turned his head to look at her. Since he had moved close to remove the vine -- a calculated move to be sure -- their faces were only inches apart. Their bodies were not touching, but it seemed he could almost feel the hairs on her skin against him. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable and she was barely breathing, and under his hand, he could feel her tremble. Their teasing and bantering had gone on for some weeks now. He was a wild one to say the least and she was suspicious of him, but the mutual attraction had been there from the start. Now she looked like a lost doe, and his hand tightened on her leg. Suddenly he threw caution to the winds. He grasped her leg and pulled her roughly toward him, and, ignoring her yelp of surprise, wrapped his other arm around her and kissed her. He had meant it to be a soft kiss, perhaps a gentle kiss, but to his surprise she came to him as eagerly as he came to her, and their mouths met with an audible smack. It seemed she had been waiting for this, for immediately her arms entwined with his and her tongue was already in his mouth, and suddenly he was lifting her into his lap, his cock already hard. Her sweet bottom rested in his lap, and he felt her hands touching his chest, running along it, her nails sometimes scraping, running through the hair. Her mouth was warm and wet and hungry and he fought back by forcing his tongue into her mouth. He realized she had wanted him as much as he did her, and his hands dropped to her breasts without preamble. She, feeling his large hands suddenly squeezing and mauling her, let go of him with one hand long enough to slide first one bikini strap over her arm, then the other. His hands made it around to the her back and undid the top, and pushed it roughly away. Still kissing him, she raked her nails down his back, hearing his answering groan. His hands pulled at her nipples, causing them to stiffen, and tested the weight of her breasts and squeezed them. He pushed his thigh up between her legs, and was rewarded by wetness already seeping through her bottoms. Methias pushed her just a little and she went back eagerly, letting his much larger frame rest on top of her. Her breasts, warmed by the sun, pressed into his chest. Her hand grabbed his and guided it down to her sarong tie. "Untie it, get it off, " she muttered, and he bit her lower lip and pulled at it. It came undone, and with it he pulled the bikini tie, too, dropping it all in a heap. His hand slipped between her legs and he slid a finger into her, then two. He was no longer surprised to find her soaking wet, and she wantonly arched her back, begging with her eyes to be fucked. Her hands yanked at his shorts and with some difficulty and some muttering they were removed, too, and dumped carelessly in a heap. Without hesitation she spread her legs and he didn't wait either. He entered her, feeling her soft and wet pussy open gladly for him, and thrust his hard cock all the way up into her. She cried out in his ear, and arched into him, almost pulling her hips all the way off the ground. Her legs wrapped around him, and he was pulled even further inside of her, causing him to groan. "By the gods, I've wanted you," he growled in her ear. "You should have taken me. I was hoping you would," came her answering reply. He looked at her in stunned disbelief for a moment, and then she blushed --just a little -- and grabbed his ears and pulled his mouth back down to hers. Her desire was making her crazy now, and she was close already -- usually it took her much longer. She couldn't help it. She had been fantasizing about Methias for so long. Theirs was no lovemaking. He rutted into her, driving his sex ever deeper, grunts and cries coming from both of them. They heard nothing of the world, nothing of the ocean, didn't notice the sun slowly setting. Their cries rose to a high pitch, and she gripped his shoulders tightly as he rammed into her ever deeper. Her hips were now actually off the ground, both of them tightly wound into each other's arms. She lost her control first, not that she had had much. "Oh, god! Methias!" she cried, as her sex spasmed around him deliciously, fluttering on his iron cock. Her nails dug into him, her head thrown back and her tanned neck exposed. Very few men could resist that siren call, and he certainly wasn't one of them. He grunted and rammed into her and held himself there, spurting into her, their bodies straining to be even closer if possible. He simply wanted to fill her up and then fuck her all over again. Panting, they subsided into each other's arms, his cock still inside of her. Her eyes were closed and her eyelids fluttered. Finally she sighed and opened her eyes and looked into his. "What just happened?" he said. "Mmm...something I've been hoping for a long time, Methias." He smiled, showing his white even teeth. "Why didn't you just say so?" "I don't know. I couldn't. I didn't want to admit I could be attracted to a man like you." "What is wrong with a man like me?" "Well, for one thing, you're arrogant." But she said it with a smile. He grinned. "Well, didn't I just show you I have reason to be?" She smacked him on the arm, then gasped as he began to move in her, already stiffening again. "Or shall I show you again?" Her eyes began to glaze over with pleasure, and she said, "Maybe you should, Methias. Maybe you should." Their lips met. The sun dropped below the waves. Sex on the Beach Currently, it is only 18 degrees outside, and the frigid air has my mind racing with thoughts of being more than just warm in the hot summer sun in my favorite fun fantasy of having sex on the beach. Although I have yet to make this sexy daydream come true, it seems to be getting just a little bit closer to becoming a fact. My main younger dream guy now has a name, and you will see a few other subtle changes in this recently updated story, if you simply read on... Although I admit to an obsession of having a huge wardrobe of sexy clothes and lingerie, I've never been a slave to fashion. I wear what is equally comfortable and flattering to my fairly full, curvaceous figure, without worrying about whether or not it was on the front cover of last month's Vogue. Weighing in at about 150 -- with my short stature of only 5'3" -- I enjoy joking that half that weight is boobs, and half my height is legs! So my clothing collection consists of quite a few beachwear items which I consider to be appropriately body-suited to me. On this red-hot afternoon in early August, I picture myself donning an extremely low-cut, one-piece, jet black bathing thong on top, with any one of a number of my huge, brightly colored, silk cover-up scarves wrapped around my bottom. Gary -- who happens to be my main younger man these days -- is lying on a blanket with me, as we bake on the crowded Jersey Shore beach near my home. We've been working up to quite a sweaty wet, since our kissing and caressing has gone from tame to wild in just a matter of a few short minutes. We unabashedly continue our heavy-duty make-out session, while relishing a little romp in the cool, clear, green Atlantic water. Hand-in-hand, we rise from the waves, walking leisurely past our blanket, toward the back of the beach where the boardwalk promenade runs. We walk directly beneath the boardwalk, and in an instant, we have left the entire world behind us -- with all its noisy people and its brilliantly shining sun. It appears to be fairly dark down under there, in between the broad, tall, white pillars that support the wooden boards above us. We seem to be out of sight of the other beach goers, as I lean my back against one of the cool cement poles. Gary is kissing me hard on my mouth, and in his soft, hungry lips I can taste his tender passion telling me in nearly silent slurps, exactly what it is that he wants and desires from me now... Firmly, he leans his body directly against mine. We mesh perfectly at every point -- hip-to-hip, groin-against- groin, skin-to-skin, knees knocking. I feel his huge, hard package pressing into my pubic bone like a wooden prod. His fingers softly slip between my thighs and around the silky edge of my body thong, pulling it off to one side. My mound is dripping with dewy moistness, as he parts my swollen, throbbing pussy lips. The rough surface of the cement pillar scratches my backside, as he pushes me harder into it, with the wholeness of his body. My feet rise from the sand, as I slide them up the sides of his calves, then thighs -- wrapping my long lean limbs around his waist like a pretzel and locking them into his lower back. Struggling ever-so-slightly, I reach inside his silky trunks to stroke his rock hard cock. I take one final, firm tug and it pops outside of his shorts like a jack-in-the-box! Much like a magnet is drawn to steel, his cumpole makes its way to my slippery wet snatch, my slot sucking him inside me like a vacuum hose. He is fucking me firmly, passionately, almost desperately -- so hard and so fast that by the time he has taken only his fifth or sixth thrust -- his creamy, monster cumload is exploding deep inside of my dark damp cave. And simultaneously along with his, my orgasm cums on strong -- rocking what feels to be the very base of my soul! Not a moment too soon and I can feel Gary going limp inside me, as our tense, tight bodies relax with a heave. Our legs quiver like rubber, as we come back down to earth, and we both blush a little bit as we adjust our bathing suits. Wrapping his elbow around shoulders and my arm around his waist, we stroll from our shelter, back across the sunny sandy beach, till we get to our blanket. Just as we are about to relax and sit down, we realize that all the people on the beach -- whom we thought we were invisible to when we were having sex under the boardwalk -- are all staring at us! Oh my god, they were watching Gary fuck me! But we are comforted considerably, as the entire crowd breaks out in a huge burst of applause for the show we just put on! Grinning broadly, my lover, Gary, takes a bow, as I produce a cute little curtsy! And we casually stretch back out on our blanket, as if nothing unusual had ever occurred! No one is aware at that very moment -- not even Gary laying next to me -- of my secret ecstasy as the hot sun beams down upon me. I squirm a bit, stifle a moan, and smile to myself. Ah, what a sweet sensation it is to feel his creamy hot cum trickling ever-so-slowly all the way down my pussy mound into the crack of my ass! Sex on the Beach We meet on the white sand beach of Cancun, Mexico. I was a nineteen year old desperately trying to escape the stifling small Southern town where I had lived all my life. This was my big adventure. I had worked for months stocking shelves and cashiering. I had finally saved enough to purchase a one-way ticket to this mysterious paradise about which my friend had told me almost mythic stories. She was now somewhat happily settled as the wife of a staff sergeant in the US Army, but when we drank she would once again relive her wild days travelling about Mexico on the back of a motor bike with some long abandoned lover. She spoke of how you could live for weeks upon a few dollars, how friendly the people were, and how beautiful the land was. With each of her drunken tales, my own spirit of adventure was ignited. So here I sat underneath the scant shade of a cabana at one of the exclusive hotels. Of course, I was not staying there. I had checked into one of the numerous local and less expensive hotels in the centre of town. But with a little help from my smattering of Spanish and the hotel clerk's scant English, I had finally figured out how to take the bus from the city out to the hotels on the beach where most of the American tourists could be found. I had been talking for several minutes to a very nice, but not exactly my type sergeant in the British army. He was stationed in neighbouring Belize. He was enjoying a two week leave with friends in Cancun and like me was staying in the city. Then I see him; approaching us like an ancient Greek god coming forth out of the breaking ocean waves. He was tall; over six feet three. His body was firm muscles, but not bulky. He had regulation short brown hair and matching deep brown eyes. He smiled as he reached us and in a deep, cool British accent said 'How bout a fag, mate?' Being unfamiliar at this point with British slang, my first thought was damn, a fag; what a waste. But I soon learned from his friend that fag meant cigarette. Yet the more this guy talked the less interested I was in him. I was still young then and the insecurities of being a late bloomer continued to haunt me. When I had graduated from high school, the previous year I had been heavier and sported buck-teeth and acne. Yet in the short space of that year, my teeth now were straighter, thanks to the metallic braces still on them. I had lost about ten pounds and sported a rather nice figure, despite my smallish but perky 32A breasts. My skin that had already been improving now glistened with a golden brown tan thanks to the Mexican sun. But at this point, I had yet to develop a sense of the power of my womanhood. I remained essentially the shy and insecure little girl I had been in high school. So I was very turned off by his arrogant, cocky attitude. I actually considered excusing myself a couple of times. As the sun began to dim in the sky, we made plans to actually meet later for drinks. After all, there were far fewer English speakers in the city centre. I was a tad reluctant when I considered even more of the steady diet of this young man's ego-centrism. In the end, it was go out with these English speaking men or stay in my hotel alone; not much of a choice, really. I was devastated when I saw only the tall, but arrogant young god sitting alone at the bar. He made quick excuses for his friend, saying that he was not feeling well because of the nasty sun-burn from a full-day of the blazing sun. We sat and drank; and argued. It seemed all we did was argue; stupid things such as which was more important the American Civil War or the British War of the Roses. In the end, we decided to take a taxi back out to the modern hotels on the beach to a dance club that he knew of. I had recently shaken off the shackles of a life-time of country music; having discovered through the brand new medium of MTV the likes of Madonna, Cindy Lauper and Annie Lennox. I was looking forward to dancing; just not necessarily with him. The first little bit was actually more of the same; arguing. Then we were joined by two older Canadian women; today we would call them cougars. They clearly had one interest: sharing him for the night. Now, one thing no woman wants is to have a man stolen from her grasp; even if she does not particularly even want that man. Obviously, I did have charms of my own and at that moment I decided to use them; to at least give it a go with this guy. I quite literally pulled his tight ass out onto that dance floor and away from those two sharks. I will never forget it; the song that was playing: Bonnie Tyler's 'Holding Out for a Hero.' Considering his stellar looks and profession, it was an appropriate selection. How can in the three-minute space of a song the earth shift? But as I danced and shammed against his hard body it did all change. This time when our eyes met it was desire we both saw reflected there. When we returned to the table, the Canadians had disappeared. We were breathless, and it had little to do with the exertion from dancing. I don't think we even bothered to finish our drinks. He took my hand and we made a speedy escape from the flashing lights and suspended disco balls. We emerged into the dark and star-light warm night of the Gulf coast. We could smell the clean, crisp beacon of the ocean just fifty yards from us. We never spoke a word as he took my hand; leading me to where the waves broke softly against the shore. It was beneath the full moon that we shared our first kiss. If that sounds terribly romantic, the reality was far more so. The kiss went on and on. Like the scene in From Here to Eternity, we dropped to the ground with waves crashing around us. We continued to kiss and became to touch one another as the salty water that remained warm even at night splashed over us. I had worn a white sundress that looked really stunning against my new tan. In the light of the full, moon I am sure it clung to my body and revealed more than it covered. His hands fumbled a bit at the small buttons that ran down the front, but he finally managed to brush the material aside. He did seem to rather expertly disperse with my front closing bra though. His hands moved over my small breasts teasing and caressing. My hands too were busy. I slipped them beneath his polo shirt to run across the firm muscles of his back. His skin felt hot and smooth as my fingers played across it. I could feel other heat too; as he ground his hard cock against me. I would call it dry humping, except that neither of us were very dry at the moment. Now at this point in life, my sexual experience was limited and this type of behaviour, making love outdoors, was definitely not familiar to me. I was very nervous. What if someone from the club came out for a smoke? We could still hear the pounding of the music and see light escaping the double doors when anyone entered or exited. What if there was a beach patrol? Did they have such things in Mexico? Could we be arrested? In a foreign country where I barely spoke the language no less. But the intoxicating taste of the whiskey and the man soon over-powered those objections. I felt him pushing my dress up and then his large hands were tugging at my panties, which were soaking wet both from the ocean water and arousal. For a single moment, I questioned the wisdom of lifting my ass; knowing that by doing so I was acquiescing to something far beyond anything I had ever experienced. In the end I lifted my hips out of the warm water, and my new lover quickly dispensed with them. He tossed them; we actually never did find them. At the same time, he undid his jeans. Before I knew it, I felt his cock pushing deep into me. As I said, I had only had one other lover before; and he was no where near this big or thick. I was very glad for the wetness from the water because the discomfort was actually more than I felt my first time; as he stretched me with each stroke. The kissing and playing with my tits though did keep me aroused and after a couple of minutes the discomfort began to ease as the arousal took over. I began to lift my hips and move against him. Now lest you think that sex on the beach is the ultimate romantic experience that we all fantasize about, there is one little thing; it is called sand. Being on the bottom, sand was grinding deeper into my bare ass with each of his thrusts. As good as the water felt on my inexperienced cunt being stretched uncomfortably by this large invader, it was also bringing with it a fair amount of gritty sand. Thankfully, we were both pretty excited by the risks of sex on the beach, the sound of waves crashing around us, the moon and stars lighting the warm Gulf night, and each other. This first time for us both was hard and fast. His tongue thrusting deep into my mouth as his cock thrust its deepest inside my cunt; then he came, flooding me with his seed. We stayed like that entwined in the sand and locked in a deep kiss for a couple of minutes. As he finally broke the kiss and drew back, he propped his weight on his arms. We were both soaking; there was not a dry stitch of clothing on me and even his jeans and polo were slightly damp from our adventure. We straightened our clothes, as best we could. Like I said, we never found my knickers; perhaps tossed too deeply into the bushes or washed away with the tide. It was much too far to walk back to the city centre; it was so late that the buses were no longer running; and we were much too wet for a taxi. We decided to walk along the beach for a bit until our clothes began to dry out. It was nice now; no arguing over completely stupid shit. I suppose all of that had simply been defence mechanisms to protect us from getting hurt. As the sun began to rise on the horizon that morning, he drew me into his arms. Our clothes were almost dry now and we had decided to hail a taxi back into the city. But first, he bent slowly down and gave me another of those soul-deep kisses that intoxicated me almost as much as that deep British accent. As he drew back from this kiss, he whispered in that accent, 'Eight letters, three words, one meaning.' I was more than a tad confused by what I later discovered was his rather unique way of saying...I love you. For the next ten days of his leave, he stayed almost constantly by my side. I returned to the US, shortly after he left for Belize. We continued to talk and write for months, but sometimes life just throws you curve balls. Eventually we lost contact and each moved on to other things, but I shall always remember my night on the beach...and him. Sex on the Beach Stephanie is beautiful. She's intelligent. She's hardworking. She's kind and compassionate. She even has a sense of humor (rare in itself among women) and the capacity to laugh at herself (rarer, still). She has a lot to offer a man, but she has poor judgment when it comes to picking out which of the many suitors shall become her one and only lover. "You need to take your time; choose carefully," I tell her. "I know," she sobs. "I will." Then, she meets Mr. Wonderful again, and the cycle is repeated. Between rounds, she usually stays with me, in my two-bedroom condo's guest room, the bathroom of which is a few steps from the doorway, just to her right as she enters the hallway. The master bedroom, which has its own bathroom, is down the hall to her left, opposite the washer and the dryer. "Thanks for letting me stay with you, big brother," she'd said, last week. She and her latest Mr. Wrong, Brian Edwards, or Brian the Bastard, as she was calling him these days, had just broken up. "You need to take your time; choose carefully," I'd told her. "I know," she'd agreed. "I will." I'd kissed her forehead, as I always do, and we'd stood together, holding each other close. Stephanie had been wearing the faintest scent of a delicate, but heady, perfume; her breasts had been soft against my chest, and, despite the cold of the night out of which she'd emerged, suitcases in hand, her tight, slender body had been warm. "Do you want to talk?" "No, thanks." She'd kissed my cheek, and we'd parted. I'd carried her bags down the hall, to the guestroom, or to her room, as I'd begun to think of the bedroom in which she'd so frequently slept over the last three years, since she'd turned eighteen and moved out of Mom's and Dad's house to start her "career" at Hotdog-on-a-Stick while looking for Mr. Right. It was a good thing we'd parted, too, because my cock had stirred, stiffening and swelling; her breasts had felt wonderfully warm and soft against my chiseled pecs, and a man's manhood, even if it belongs to the brother of a beloved sister, knows nothing of right and wrong, permissible or impermissible, proper or improper. At the doorway, as I'd left, having set her bags on the bed, Stephanie had offered me another chaste and sisterly kiss, and said, "Thanks for being here for me, Brad." I'd smiled. "What are brothers for?" * * * Now, a week later, Stephanie's bruised and battered soul was still healing. When she wasn't selling Hotdogs-on-a-Stick, she was holed up in her room, watching chick flicks and fantasizing about unlikely vengeance scenarios involving Brian the Bastard as her victim. "You need to do something," I told her as we broke our previous evening's fast over plates of pancakes, bacon, and eggs that Stephanie had prepared. In addition to being beautiful, intelligent, hardworking, kind, compassionate, and having a good sense of humor, my kid sister's a superb cook. I told her as much. "Thanks," she said, with a grin, "but making pancakes hardly qualifies me as a world-class chef." "You didn't make just pancakes," I reminded her. "There are eggs, too, and bacon." "Yeah," she agreed, "and plates and everything." "You've never been a bachelor." "That's true," she concurred, playing along. "I'm a bachelorette." "Not the same." "Why not?" "Well, for one thing, bachelorettes are girls." "Thanks for noticing." "And, for another, they can cook." Stephanie pretended outrage. "Brad Thomas! What a sexist thing to say!" "You can, anyway." I sipped my coffee, looking at Stephanie across the round, glass-topped table. She saw me looking, averted her eyes, looked back, saw me studying her, laughed, a little uncomfortably, and said, "What?" She was wearing a fluffy, powder-blue terrycloth robe. Fastened around the waist with a fluffy, powder-blue terrycloth belt, the top of the front of the garment, the lower portion of which extended only a few inches below her crotch, was parted enough for me to see that she wasn't wearing a bra. The smooth, round cleavage of her breasts were brazenly displayed, and I could see an expanse of her firm, tight midriff between the upper halves of her robe. Unfortunately, the belt was tied snugly, forbidding any further view of my sister's charms. My cock had more than stirred at the sight of my sister's cleavage; it was standing fully erect, so stiff and swollen that it throbbed painfully. Inside the risen pouch of my tightened scrotum, my balls ached as well. "What?" Stephanie repeated. "Nothing," I said, averting my eyes. "You were staring at me," she said, her tone light, but with an accusatory undertone that maybe wasn't playful. "I was just thinking how lucky a guy--any guy--would be to have you as his girlfriend." I felt myself blush as I added, "You're incredibly beautiful." She chuckled. "If you weren't my brother, I'd marry you," she quipped. Although she'd obviously intended her comment as a joke, I found myself wishing she'd meant it both literally and sincerely. I blushed again, more deeply. "Wouldn't that be nice?" She reached across the table for the syrup, and the front of her robe parted farther, revealing a perfect breast, including the nipple, ringed by its puffy areola. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed to me that the nipple, like my prick, was erect--despite the bright sunshine that streamed through the window before which she sat, warming her, as it did the dining room. The air conditioner was off, too, so, whatever it was that had stiffened her nipples, it wasn't cold temperature. Butter dish in hand, she sat back, sliced off a tab with her knife, and, poised to spread the yellow substance across her pancake, said, smiling brightly, "Yes, it would, Bradley dearest." We finished our meal in relative silence, me furtively glancing at the front of my sister's robe, hoping against hope that another movement or gesture would reveal, again, one magnificent breast or the other. I had no such luck, although her cleavage remained as much in evidence as ever, teasing me to near ejaculation as I sneaked peeks at the tops and sides of her breasts. She stood, gathering her plate and silverware. Crossing to my side of the table, she set her plate beside mine, and asked, "Finished?" I hoped she wouldn't notice my erection, which jutted up, against the front of my robe, beneath the glass tabletop. I nodded, fearful that my voice would be husky with lust, should I respond verbally. She removed my plate, stacking it on her own, and added our cutlery to the stack. Carrying them into the kitchen, she treated me to a glimpse of her round bottom, which swayed and rolled with her gait. "You don't have to wash the dishes." I cleared my throat. My voice was a little husky, as I'd feared, but it sometimes was, in the morning, anyway. "Or cook, for that matter." "I want to," she answered. "It's nice to have a man to spoil, even if he is my brother." I pushed the chair back from the table and rose. From the kitchen, as she scraped our dishes at the sink, prior to placing them in the dishwasher, she asked, "Where are you going?" "I have to get ready for work." "Work? On Saturday?" "Not usually, but the company just landed a new contract, and my boss wants me to meet with him to outline a production strategy." "Oh." Stephanie sounded disappointed. "I'm hardly ever off on Saturdays, and I was hoping we could do something today, just the two of us." "Maybe we still can. What'd you have in mind?" "I don't know, a drive up the coast, maybe." "That's doable, sis," I said. "I should be home by noon." "I'll be ready," Stephanie promised, "and waiting." * * * In the master bathroom, standing naked before the full-length mirror, I studied myself critically, the way, I imagined, a woman would--the way that my sister might, were she interested in me in the same way that another woman might be. I'm not vain, but I don't suffer from false modesty, either, and I know I'm handsome. Plenty of women have told me as much, and, well, the mirror doesn't lie. God or nature, or both, was good to me. I'm tall and dark-haired, with dark brown, almost black, eyes; a straight nose which is neither too imposing nor too retiring; a square chin; high cheekbones; a clearly delineated jawbone; small ears; a bull neck; broad shoulders; a deep chest; tight abs, a narrow waist; a nine-inch, circumcised cock; big balls; muscular thighs; a tight, compact ass; and a powerful, sculpted back. I've never been able to understand what women see in such features, but most find them attractive, I've found. Maybe it's hardwired into them, the way a man's love of feminine attributes is genetically encoded in him, if he's straight. In any case, as I say, women find me attractive, and, were I not Stephanie's brother, I suspect that she would also think me worth seducing. I smiled, thinking, Hell, she flirts with me, as it is. If I weren't her sibling--but, unfortunately, I was. "Down, boy," I chided my stiff, upright cock, which didn't give a rat's ass about familial relationships. The shower was hot, although it should have been cold, and I enjoyed the hissing needles falling against my naked flesh and the caress of the warm water sluicing down my chest and belly, over my soaked pubes, and along my thick thighs. I luxuriated in the sensations of the steaming water showering my back, my buttocks, and the backs of my legs. The rain of water felt good on my shoulders and neck, too, and I stayed under the shower as long as I dared. The water felt wonderful, warm and wet against my bare flesh, running down and around the shaft of my still half-erect prick and the front and sides of my tightened scrotum. After ten minutes, I stepped, reluctantly, out of the shower and dressed in white cotton briefs, a white shirt, black socks, a gray suit with black pinstripes, a maroon tie fixed to my shirtfront with a diamond-studded tie clasp, and a pair of black wingtips. The mirror approved of the transformation from a stubble-chinned, robed bachelor to a clean-shaven, dapper young project manager. I found myself hoping that Stephanie would approve, too. She did, judging by her expression. Her eyebrows shot up, her eyes snapping wide, and her mouth dropped. "Wow, bro! You look like a movie star who's up for an Academy Award." I was "up," all right--or had been, just a few minutes ago--I thought, smiling, but not for a statuette. "Thanks," I said. She followed me to the door. Her robe was still half-open, and, intentionally or otherwise, she was flashing even more tit than she had been at breakfast. From the kitchen, I heard the faint hum and splash of the dishwasher. The dining room table was completely cleared, and there was no sign of the breakfast we'd shared. In addition to her many other qualities and capabilities, my little sister was quite the little homemaker, I thought. "Do me a favor, Brad?" "Sure." "Buy me a dozen long-stemmed roses." She needed cheering up after being dumped by Brian the Bastard, I thought. "Gladly," I said. My hand closed upon the doorknob. "And, Brad?" I paused. "Make sure they're red," she said. I'd been thinking pink, but I nodded. "The reddest roses ever plucked shall be yours, my dear." Her hand lit upon my forearm, and she leaned into me, a breast flattening against my arm, soft, but firm, feminine and full. She kissed my lips. "I love you, Bradley." My cock stiffening and swelling, I opened the door. "I love you, too, Stephanie," I replied, and stepped outside, into the brilliance of the summer morn. "I'll be waiting for you," she called. * * * The morning was one of the longest of my life. Oh, the meeting went well; no problem there--it just seemed to take forever, as did visiting the flower shop and buying the roses, and returning home, all because I couldn't stop thinking of Stephanie. She may be my sister, but she is one sexy, beautiful woman, too, and the memory of her cleavage; of her naked, perfect breast; and of her pressing herself into me as her lips kissed mine were images I couldn't keep out of my mind, even when my boss and I were discussing my "key role" in satisfying the demands of a multi-million-dollar contract. Finally, though, a dozen red, long-stemmed roses cradled in my arm, I was standing upon my doorstep. Heart beating like that of a schoolboy on his first date, I inserted my key, turned it in the lock, and opened the front door. Stephanie looked up at me from her seat on the sectional couch in the living room. She'd been flipping through a magazine, which she tossed aside as soon as she saw me, and rose, wearing a brief halter top, tied at the front, resembling a bandana more than it did a blouse; the shortest pair of denim short shorts I'd ever seen, frayed about the leg holes; and an impractical, but sexier-than-hell, pair of high-heeled shoes. Her long blonde tresses, newly shampooed, conditioned, and styled, hung loosely about her neck and shoulders, accentuating both her sparkling blue eyes and her tanned complexion. Just seeing her made me want to-- Instead, I shut the door behind me, met her halfway, as she entered the hallway from the living room, and, with a mild flourish, presented her with the roses. She grinned, her eyes sparkling, as she accepted the flowers. "They're beautiful, Bradley!" she exclaimed, bouncing on the tips of her toes as she kissed me on the mouth, not the cheek, and let her own, soft, full lips linger upon mine before hastening off to put the roses in a vase of water while I changed clothes. It was only half past noon. There was plenty of time for a drive up the coast--the whole afternoon lay ahead of us, golden and bright, lovely and warm. "I'll be right down," I told Stephanie, as I resisted the impulse to charge up the stairs. "I just need to change my clothes." "I'll be waiting," my sister called. She sounded happier than I'd heard her sound in months. Living with Brian the Bastard must have taken more of a toll on her than either she or I had realized, but Brother Bradley would make up for the creep's mistreatment, I vowed. Near the top of the stairs, I took the last half dozen steps two at a time. Another surprise awaited me in my bedroom. Stephanie had laid out an outfit for me on my bed: blue jeans, a wide leather belt with an oversize buckle, a light blue T-shirt, white socks, cowboy boots, a Stetson--and, my eyes widened--a pair of black thongs, trimmed in gold, which, I realized, she must have bought herself, while I was at work, because I didn't own, and had never even purchased, such a pair of underwear! * * * Splat! The handful of wet sand, which Stephanie had shaped unto a missile about the size of a softball, struck me in the back, just above the waist, splattering in a messy explosion of muck. I whirled, tossing my own bomb, but my sister, already having retreated into the surf, dove into the sea, escaping the same fate she'd dealt to me. She surfaced a few yards farther out to sea, spluttering and laughing. The line of incoming waves buoyed her up as they rushed ashore, and their white foam crashed around her. My kid sister was quite the guerilla fighter, I thought, laughing as I wiped the sand from my lower back. "You got me all dirty, sis!" I called to her, over the incoming whitecaps. She laughed. "You'll just have to clean off," she called back. "I didn't bring a suit," I reminded her. "Neither did I," she countered. "Wearing what you're wearing, you hardly need one," I observed. I looked down at the red high heeled shoes on at the edge of the water. She'd kicked them off before dashing into the surf, which meant that she was wearing only the halter top and abbreviated shorts--and maybe some panties. "You don't need a suit," she declared. "What am I supposed to do, swim naked?" "Why not?" she asked. "No one else is here." We'd stopped on our way up the coastal highway to frolic on a deserted stretch of beach. There wasn't much of a shore--a strip about twenty feet deep, hugging a rocky cliff. We'd seen it from the highway, parked at an overlook, and climbed down a twisting, narrow path. Probably, we'd broken a couple of California state laws and a few federal regulations in the process. "You're here," I objected. "It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," Stephanie said. "Yeah, when we were, like, what? Three years old?" "And sixteen," she replied, "and eighteen." I took off my boots and socks, pulled off my T-shirt, and, sitting in the wet sand, tried to roll up the legs of my jeans, but they were too tight. I shrugged. The seat was wet and sandy now, anyway; I might as well wear them into the water. I had an old blanket in the trunk of my Mustang. I could drape it over the bucket seats, so Stephanie and I wouldn't get the upholstery soaked. Standing, I strode into the breaking rollers. The cold water splashed high, drenching my jeans to mid-thigh, and I shuddered. "You look good without a shirt," Stephanie complimented me as I closed the distance between us. I eyed her skimpy top. The cleavage of her firm, round breasts, sequined with beads of water that sparkled in the afternoon sun, shimmered. The undulating surface of the water crashed and splashed against the thin fabric. Her nipples were stiff and swollen, poking insistently against the thin material. "So do you," I quipped. "I'm wearing a shirt," she protested. I snickered. "Not much of one." Making a face, she flipped water at me. I surged forward, caught her wrist, and pulled her to me. She looked surprised. Then, she grinned. "You deserve a spanking for throwing that wet sand ball at me," I told her. Stephanie squirmed in my grip, but I was stronger by far than she. I raised my hand, bringing the flattened palm down rapidly, in a loose arc, and smacked my sister on her bottom. The thin denim of her short-shorts wouldn't have offered her much protection, wet of dry, but the water that tossed and churned between us was an effective barrier, reducing the force of the blow by eighty or ninety percent and transforming the swat into a gentle love tap. It couldn't possibly have hurt, but Stephanie's a good actress--always has been. "Ouch!" she jumped, as if the spank had stung her, directed a sullen glare at me, and rubbed her buttocks. "That hurt!" I decided to play along. "And that ball of sand to the small of my back didn't?" The water rolled and pitched about my waist and Stephanie's all-but-bare breasts as she closed the distance between us, circling my hips with her hands. "Let's not argue or fight, Brad. I'd rather kiss and make up." Her hands slid up my back, drawing my head down, as she lifted her lovely face to mine, so that we kissed. I drew away. "Stephanie!" She looked at me, sexier than hell, through her wet and tangled locks, which adhered to her face like blonde seaweed. Her emerald eyes were shining, but they looked deeper than the blue-green sea that dipped and rose around us. "Don't you like me?" she asked. "Of course," I said, "you're my sister, but--" As I watched, she unknotted and removed her halter top. Her bare breasts filled my gaze, as if there were nothing else--no sky, no sea, no shore--to see, and I studied the beautiful twin spheres as if I'd never seen a woman's breasts before, for, in truth, I'd never seen my sister's tits prior to this moment, except when she'd been three years old and had had no more on top than had I, at age five. Her areolas were puffy pink moats surrounding her hard, stiff nipples. I stared, both my eyes and my mouth opened wide. Unable to look away. I swallowed, my hands shaking at my sides, longing to touch my sister's magnificent orbs. "But what?" "Like I said, you're my sister." She looked at me, her eyes deep and murky as the ocean. "Don't you think I know that, Brad?" Sex on the Beach My beach. Waves pounding the shore, seagulls crying out, sand crabs burrowing deep into the warm, moist sand. This is where I come when I need to get away from it all and today is such a day. Summer is my favorite time of year. I love the warmth of the sun, nights that are warm enough to sleep naked, barbeques, beach days, time to just relax. I park on the one lane dirt road and walk the last quarter mile into the beach. There is a small single track path that leads to a cove, my cove. I have my bag with a towel, a book and some snacks for later. As I reach the beach, I kick off my sandals. The sand feels soft running through my toes. Slowly I pull off my sun dress to reveal a solid black racing suit. I drop my things and run to the waves. Brrrr...the water is cold as always. I dive into the breakers, the cold taking my breath away. I swim out a ways and let the surf bring me back in. The waves are so powerful. I feel at home. Up and back I body-surf becoming one with the ocean. Tiring, I head back to the beach, stopping to pick up a shell or two. I lay my towel down and stretch out to enjoy the sun. I let my hands roam down my body, from my large breasts, to my slight tummy, to my firm thighs. My fingers linger on my center, feeling warmth and not just from the sun. I close my eyes and let my fingers play. I can feel the warm folds under my wet suit. My hands come up to my breasts and rub lazy circles around my nipples, making them rock hard. Feeling rather aroused I decide to take off my suit. I stand and look around at the bluffs to be sure no one is there and then slide the straps from my shoulders. I push my suit down over my hips and let it fall to my feet. Caressing my full breast, I bring my nipple to my mouth and suck gently on it. I walk to the edge of the water and sit with my body facing the waves. Slowly my fingers begin circling my hardened bud. I slip a finger in between my lips and feel my wetness. Back to my clit. The first small waves hit me. The cold mixed with my growing heat makes me feel alive. I push one hand back into the sand behind me as my fingers continue to rub my pussy. My fingers plunge deep into my folds and a small gasp escapes my lips. I glance around again - still alone. I lay back on the sand, burrowing my feet in. A wave hits my aching sex fully. The feel of it puts me closer to the edge. I move my fingers back up to my clit and finger faster. I pull on my nipples with my other hand. As more waves wash over me, I arch into them. Feeling the water swirl around me is very sensual. My fingers move faster. I begin to pump my hips in time with my fingers. I'm moaning out loud, I can't help it. As the biggest wave yet hits me, I fall over the edge and cum with the wave. Over and over I feel it coursing through my body. I cry out with the seagulls as another wave crashes over and through me. As I sit up, I hear footsteps behind me. I look up to see a very beautiful, very naked woman walking towards me. She sits next to me in the sand. "Thought I would find you here," she says with a warm smile. "Do you mind if I join you?" She slides her arm around my shoulder and I lean into her. "That was beautiful, baby. You and the waves and the sand. It was the most sensual thing I have ever watched." She pulls my chin towards her and kisses me full on the lips. My body responds and I open myself to her. Our tongues dance freely in each others mouths. My breath quickens as I hold her there by the back of her neck. Our kiss deepens and I hear her sigh. I pull back and look her in the eyes. "Are you sure you want this?" I ask. "I don't want you to regret what I think we are about to do." "More than I have wanted anything in a long time," she replies, her hands stroking my hair. "Ever since you told me you were exploring women, I have imagined that I was the one you wanted. But can we move back to the sand? The waves are cold!" She laughs, pecks me on the lips and jumps up. I follow her back up to where my towel is, watching her hips sway as she walks. Her ass is firm and round and I can see the edges of her full breasts as she swings her arms. She stops and turns to me with her arms open. I step into them and into her. Our lips lock again and it sends pleasure shocks all through me. My hands begin to wander over her body. First to her breasts and hardened nipples and then lower to her center. She gasps as my fingers caress her bud and slide up and down her moistening lips. I slowly lower her down to the towel. On our knees still kissing, her hands find me. First my breasts then down to my already wet slit. She slides a finger along my dripping lips and raises it to her tongue. "Mmmm." She says. "You taste like I do." I push her back and trail kisses down her neck, my fingers still sliding up and down her lips. I move my mouth to her waiting nipples and suck one in, then to the other and do the same. I begin to kiss slowly down her tummy to her hairy triangle to her inner thigh, where I suck and nibble. I slide one and then two fingers into her now dripping hole. I look up and catch her eyes. "Are you ready?" I ask sensuously, my tongue flicking out and finding her clit. "Oh, yes!" She whispers hungrily. "Please." I lower my lips to her clit and suck it in. Her hips buck involuntarily as a cry escapes her lips. I suck hard on her clit as my fingers slide in and out of her dripping honeypot. I see that she is pulling on her nipples. She is moaning and grinding her pussy into my face. I feel her tighten from the inside and know she is very close. I quicken my fingers and rub them over her g-spot, applying gentle pressure. I suck her clit hard. She cries out and explodes all over my fingers and face. Her juices coming out faster than I can lap them up, her muscles pushing my fingers almost all the way out of her. I push them back in to her g-spot and feel another contraction rack her body. I gently flick her clit as her body shakes under me. "I want you now." She says, rolling me over onto my back into the sand. I can feel the heat from the sand flowing through my whole body. I can hear the waves crashing and the seagulls calling as she moves her body over mine. She kisses me hard and sucks her juices off my tongue. Her hands pull my nipples and knead my breasts. She slides down and attacks my clit with her tongue and teeth and lips, almost sending me over the edge immediately. Her fingers plunge deep into me. I feel her hit my g-spot and I push into her. She is so aggressive and it is making me want more. I pump my hips with her fingers and pull her by the hair down hard into my clit. I want to cum for her. She puts more pressure on my g-spot and I feel my whole body convulse. I push against her fingers as orgasmic wave after orgasmic wave rip through me. My head is shaking back and forth and I moan and cry out. She continues her assault on both my clit and g-spot until I can take no more. I pull her up on top of me and kiss her, tasting my cum on her lips and tongue. She slides her leg in between mine and I grind my clit on her, cumming again quickly as we kiss. "Wow," she sighs. "Is that what I've been missing?" "I know what you mean." I respond breathlessly. "This was my first time too. And it was better than any other fantasy." We lay side by side, covered in sand kissing lightly. My fingernails run trails up and down her side, to her nipple, to her cheek. I smile and stand up. "Join me in the waves and lets do it again!" I say, turning and running to the water. She catches me and we both fall into the first wave, locked in a new lovely embrace . . .